


Days Like This

by stsuburbia



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anyways, Berlermo, I wrote this at 1am, M/M, Martin deserved Better, Sad, So it isn't great but huh, enjoy??, im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24099853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stsuburbia/pseuds/stsuburbia
Summary: Martín is afraid of hurting Helsinki the way Andrés hurted him.Also known as the one where Palermo thinks about Berlín while kissing someone else.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Palermo | Martín Berrote, Helsinki | Mirko Dragic/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 7
Kudos: 61





	Days Like This

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is the first time I post something in this web???  
> So uh idk I'm not a great writer but I enjoy it and I love Berlermo and Helsinki so much so 👉👈 I tried.
> 
> I also wrote this at 1am, don't know if that's a good or a bad thing.  
> Alright bye

Everything was happening so fast.  
The plan,  
their plan.  
Everything was in danger right now.

Nairobi almost got shot again, but Denver was fast enough to punch Gandia on the neck with his gun, leaving him unconscious. That would give them enough time to figure out what to do with him and tie him again.

He entered the office and closed the door, unzipping the top of the jumpsuit, leaving his black shirt on. He was fucking sweating and needed to get some air. 

During the heist the pressure was constant and in the back of his mind, he was starting to think that he wouldn't be able to get to the end without either dying or killing himself.  
Luckily, the rest of his brain wasn't going to give up. After all, he was a stubborn guy.

He sat on the floor and took a deep breath. So many things were going through his brain.  
Suddenly he heard footsteps on the other side of the door, and stared patiently until he saw Helsinki's body get in.

He was terrified.  
He felt sorry for him. He knows well the feeling of thinking your best friend is going to die. Except his best friend was also his soulmate and he ended up dying.

"Is she good?"- Martín asked, truly worried about Nairobi.

"She's fine. Bogotá is with her on the other room, and the rest of the group are taking care of Gandía and the hostages."- Helsinki said, sitting next to Palermo in the exact same way he had done just a few minutes ago.

"Are you good?"- Martín asked. He knew he wasn't. Of course not. But even if he lied to him and tell him he was fine, at least now he knew that he cared about him.

"I don't even know how it feels to be good anymore."- He answered, looking into the nothingness.

"Me neither."- He simply said.

"Palermo."

Martín looked at Helsinki, noticing that his eyes were full of tears waiting to be freed. He always found interesting how a guy that seems so strong, scary, intimidating, can be so soft and vulnerable. He really was the nicest person he has ever met.

"I'm going to tell you a thing."- He explained. Martín just looked at him, giving him his time.- "And you can do what you want with that information but... I've learnt so many things during these two heists. And one of them is that if I feel something I have to say it."

He didn't get into details, but Martín was very aware of where he learnt that lesson. That stupid speech Nairobi gave him. Calling him a coward for not telling Berlín he loved him before it was too late. And he got mad at her for that fucking speech. Because she was right.

Andrés knew he loved him. He definitely did, he wasn't stupid. Even Sergio told him.  
But he never said it.

He never told him how he really felt.  
I love you. I am in love with you, I want to be with you forever. I want to kiss you whenever I want and I want to be able to hug you back when you hug me. I want to cuddle you when we dance together without feeling I'm doing too much. I want to touch you, feel you, and I want you to love me back. 

He did kiss him, though. And that should've been enough. That kiss, the way he looked at Andrés, his tears going through his cheeks the moment he kissed him back with such passion... the kiss was enough to tell Andrés what he felt for him.  
But he left, after all.

Maybe if he would've stopped him. If he would've told him, verbally, what he felt. Maybe Andrés just needed to know for sure. Maybe he was afraid too, and wanted Martín to stop him.  
But he didn't.  
And now it was too late, because he was dead. As Nairobi said.

Dead.

"I am in love with you."- He looked up suddenly, locking eyes with Helsinki. These news weren't a surprise but still it felt so weird to hold such power on someone.

"Helsi..."- He didn't even know how he felt. How could he answer? What was he supposed to do now?

"I know. You don't have to love me back, I just needed to tell you."- Helsinki wasn't ashamed, or scared. He knew what he was saying and he was confident and sure about it. Martín knew he wasn't lying.

"How can you fall in love with someone like me, Helsi?"- He sighed. He wasn't going to make him happy. Not if he wasn't happy himself. It was impossible.- "I hurt people. I make them suffer. You know this well."

He wanted to cry. Helsinki was so beautiful and innocent. He had the soul of a kid and the biggest heart in the world. He couldn't hate himself enough for breaking that heart.

"Love hurts, Palermo."

And he was right. He knew it. He had fallen in love with the devil. He was aware Andrés could be an asshole. He knew Andrés hurted lots of people. But he fell in love with him anyways. Because he saw the good side of him.  
The bright, artistic, intelligent, handsome and even loving Andrés.  
And he loved him, oh, he loved him so much.

Was it possible that Helsinki felt for Martín what he felt for Andrés?

"You are making a mistake. You are going to hurt yourself."- Martín explained, looking away, now staring at his feet. 

"I don't care. I know I should care but I don't. If right now you'd told me to do anything. Anything."- He said, trying to get Martín to look at him again.- "I would do it. Even if it's stupid, I would do it just to make you happy, to get your attention. And I know that's sick but I can't help it."

It was like listening to himself. This is what he should've told Andrés.

"You have fallen in love with an asshole."

"I know."

Martín looked at Helsinki after some seconds of silence. He looked tired, but relieved.  
Martín felt a wave of love go through his body.  
Helsinki loved him. And he wasn't going to break his heart and leave him alone after telling him.

He wasn't Andrés.

He took a breath and moved his body a bit, sitting on his knees.  
He slowly moved his hand towards Helsi's cheek, the big guy's eyes showing his fear.  
And he kissed him. He kissed him with the passion he wish Andrés had kissed him a million times, since the day they met. He kissed him like Andrés kissed him on his dreams, every single night.

But he wasn't doing the right thing. Because in his mind he wasn't kissing Helsinki. His adorable, sweet Helsinki.

He was kissing Andrés.

In his mind it was Andrés, in a red jumpsuit, the one that was caressing his face and kissing him back.  
The Argentinian would pass his hand through his soft, short curly hair and then touch his cheeks with his thumb, slowly and softly.  
And then he'd separate their lips, only because he needed to breath, feeling the emptiness of his mouth once his pink, beautiful lips were away. And he'd stare at him, that sparkle in his eyes appearing again just by looking at him, like always. And he'd tell him "I love you."  
And he would start crying. So much. Because he was stupid. He has dreamed of this for ten years and he only got to do it once, to be abandoned by him right after it. After following him around, idolizing him, loving him, wishing he was his first wife, and the second, and the third, and the fourth, the fifth. 

But that's all it was. A wish.  
A wish that didn't come true.  
He wasn't kissing Andrés. His soulmate. The love of his life.  
No.

He was kissing someone else and he couldn't help but start sobbing, separating from Helsinki and saying I'm sorry a million times per second, putting his hands on his face. Ashamed of being such a piece of shit. Ashamed to be the one breaking someone's heart.

"It's okay."- Helsinki said, hugging Martín in a way he only knew how to do.

"I'm sorry."- He repeated between sobs.- "I can't forget him. I can't, Helsi. I'm sorry."

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are more than welcome 🥰🥰 
> 
> I'm @stsuburbiax on Twitter :)
> 
> Bye!


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